


Be My War Paint (Lord Knows I Need the Strength)

by sweeterthankarma



Category: The Half of It (2020)
Genre: Aster Flores is a lesbian, Compulsory Heterosexuality, F/F, F/M, Gen, Internalized Homophobia, Repression, scene introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24414739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeterthankarma/pseuds/sweeterthankarma
Summary: Aster is digging a hole, one that’s growing deeper every day, and whether Paul or her parents or even sweet, smart Ellie Chu can see it doesn’t matter because she can. She has the perfect view of the whole way down, pitch black and endless and hellbound if she doesn’t course correct.So Aster kisses Paul.
Relationships: Aster Flores/Paul Munsky, Ellie Chu/Aster Flores
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	Be My War Paint (Lord Knows I Need the Strength)

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little introspection into Aster's thoughts during her scene with Paul after she and Ellie spent the day together. 
> 
> Title comes from the song "Mercy / Gatekeeper" by Hayley Kiyoko.

As soon as Aster sees Paul, disappointment floods through her. It’s strong and forceful and follows with sharp, red hot shame that feels like fire in the pit of her belly, fiercely familiar but painful all the same. It stings like... she struggles to find the proper description, rattles through various word choices in her mind until she settles on lava. That’s what this feels like, burning through her veins like the bad CGI kind of bright orange  _ something _ that manifests on the screen of nearly every poorly executed science fiction movie her cousins always make her watch. It’s never her first choice of a pastime during a family gathering but it’s always preferable to the sound of their grandparents arguing in the other room, voices raised and heated over something like dinner dinner or taxes or church— and oh  _ God, _ church is the last thing Aster wants to be thinking about right now.

So of course the first words to fly out of Aster’s mouth are “do you believe in God?” 

Paul says he does. It doesn’t surprise Aster, not one bit. She isn’t even sure why she asked, why it would make one difference to her one way or the other.

Paul is talking. Aster can barely hear him through the blood rushing in her ears. She registers a sentence about her paintings and she nods along, pretends to listen. She tastes guilt, swallows it back to no avail, and tries not to see the strange, unsure look that Paul is giving her. 

She feels a bit like she’s exposed herself and her deepest anxieties by bringing up religion so suddenly, but maybe it’s just because she knows herself so well. And she  _ does  _ know herself, but knowing and admitting are two different things and she’s certainly not doing much of the latter, not in the ways that it counts. She’s digging a hole, one that’s growing deeper every day, and whether Paul or her parents or even sweet, smart Ellie Chu can see it doesn’t matter because  _ she _ can. Aster has the perfect view of the whole way down, pitch black and endless and hellbound if she doesn’t course correct. 

So Aster kisses Paul. Lunges up and slots her mouth to his and tries to sigh and be into it and want him— because she  _ wants  _ to want him, she really and truly does, so much so that it almost hurts— but when Paul’s tongue slips into her mouth she thinks of the stain in the passenger seat of her car, the slowly drying, unsymmetrical circle that used to be the pile of Ellie’s damp clothes, and she wonders if it’ll still be there when she gets back into her car. Wonders what it would mean if she wanted it to be. Wonders why it matters at all, some mere residue of liquid from a place that Aster may love, but it’s really just a place, and Ellie is just a girl that Aster barely even knows and Aster is exactly the same, as foreign to herself as she seems to be to everyone else. 

And that’s exactly it, she realizes as Paul laughs into the kiss, holds onto her waist and squeezes his fingers against the waistline of her jeans. Aster already knows the answer to her deepest and darkest question, knows that all these little details that she clings onto (like the tiny, insignificant pebbles kicked haphazardly under the seat from Ellie’s sneakers that had guided her into Aster’s space and now exist as proof of her presence) lead her to something far more significant. Something she can’t describe, something she isn’t sure that she wants to be able to. 

All those little things are something left of Ellie that Aster can see: something left of her memories and feelings; remnants of moments that have already vanished into the past, never to be retraced or relived again— even if Aster has already replayed them in her mind twice in the past five minutes. 

Aster is suddenly acutely aware of the fact that she’s outside of Ellie’s house.  _ They’re  _ outside of Ellie’s house, her and Paul and they’re kissing and they’re incredibly close to each other and it’s suddenly hit Aster that she could be at Ellie’s front door in less than ten seconds if she let go of Paul’s forearms and sprinted; she could be face to face with her if she just let herself, look into those gentle, chocolate colored eyes and say something, maybe just “goodnight,” or maybe not anything at all. 

Or maybe, if Aster glanced up, she’d find Ellie to be already looking down at her from her third story bedroom window, small and luminescent in the clouded moonlight. Aster doesn’t dare pull away to find out. 

Eventually, she does leave, though. She says goodbye to Paul, says she’ll see him later though they don’t have a date planned and then she heads back towards her car, not taking a second look at him. She knows he’s looking at her, can practically feel his eyes boring into her as she treks the whole thirty steps. 

Aster covers the last few feet by way of a sweeping skip. She tells herself it’s because she’s giddy and excited and in love, and besides, she thinks Paul will find it cute. It’s certainly not at all because Ellie had done the same before getting into the car earlier, barely wind-dried and just a little sunburnt with a hint of a smile on her face. Aster’s certainly not thinking about what that smile was for, and absolutely not wondering what kind of thoughts go through Ellie’s head at any given moment— if they’re about  _ Remains of the Day  _ or college or Paul or her.

Aster almost cries on the way home. She tells herself that she isn’t quite sure why, but the truth simmers in the back of her consciousness, too bitter and dangerous to even entertain.

_ You should be happy,  _ her mind practically bellows at her.  _ You should be so happy.  _

And so Aster decides, then and there, that she is. Why wouldn’t she be? This life is all she’s got, Paul and Trig and boring but quaint Squahamish, and though things could always be better, it’s not half bad. It’s enough. It has to be enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed, please let me know! Feel free to talk to me in the comments, or at my Tumblr under the same username, sweeterthankarma, about anything and everything related to sapphic fandoms.


End file.
